


Lay Down Your Burdens

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, Family, Gen, Gen Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-19 12:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>6.20 coda – Castiel's gotten himself into a fine mess.  It's a good thing someone's there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"That's why I'm asking you, Father, one last time. Am I doing the right thing? Am I on the right path? You have to tell me, you have to give me a sign. _Give me a sign!_ Because if you don't, I'm gonna…I'm gonna do whatever I…whatever I must."

Gabriel listens to Castiel's desperate plea, just as he's listened to the rest of this unsettling storytime, and just as Castiel is starting to look as though all hope is lost, he steps out from the shadows and uncloaks his grace. "S'quite the story, little brother."

Castiel jerks upright, his eyes widening. "It can't be…" he breathes, sounding like the worst sort of cliché. And Gabriel's heard his fair share.

"Hey bro," he says. He snaps his fingers, and the bench Castiel is seated on suddenly grows wider. Wide enough for Gabriel to plop himself down beside his brother and stare at the young, foolish angel.

"Gabriel." Castiel blinks a few times, his posture rigid. "You're –"

"You asked for a sign," Gabriel says with a shrug. "That trumps death, I guess. Dad snapped his fingers, gave me my life, my grace, and a _particularly_ withering glare, and told me to 'go fix your little brother, Gabriel'. So here I am."

Castiel blinks, starts to say, "I don't need –"

"Yeah, you do, Cas," Gabriel cuts in again, gently this time, not taking his gaze from Castiel's. Because Castiel already knows it, despite every defense he's cooked up to feed everyone else.

It's like watching a puppet have his strings cut, the way Castiel goes suddenly limp. His eyes close, and the breath stutters out of him. "I thought…" He trails off, because he doesn't know what to say.

"I know." Gabriel sighs, sits back a little. "And hey, I mean, I made my fair share of mistakes in the past too, y'know. Nothing's unforgivable, Castiel. _Nothing_. In fact, it's already done, or Dad wouldn't have sent me here, right? And you had the right idea! You just…probably should've left the demon to rot." He cringes a little. "Some things are better left alone. And Purgatory? That's definitely one of 'em."

Castiel inhales deeply, releases the breath slowly. It's more than a release of oxygen he doesn't need, Gabriel knows. When those baby-blues open again, they're bright and clear.

Awaiting orders.

"Tell me what to do." All but begging.

Gabriel twitches a little, because he can admit, he's not big on the whole command thing. That was always Michael's gig, and as far as Gabriel was concerned, his older brother was welcome to it. But, well, Mike's a little out of commission right now, and who else is there?

"First thing's first," he finally says. "Souls were never meant to be used this way, Castiel. You need to let them go." He expects some sort of token resistance, but Castiel only nods. Gabriel doesn't know where Castiel's been storing the souls he has at his disposal, the ones taken from the pit to be changed into the raw power he's been using to try and defeat an archangel. But he can feel the moment they're free, Castiel's eyes holding a faraway look as he releases them. Some dive, or are dragged, right back to Hell. But there are a few that appear to have found God during their brief stint as canon-fodder. When it's done, he watches Castiel sag, looking more wretched than he already had. It's pretty obvious that he can feel the newly freed souls as easily as Gabriel can.

"What have I done, Gabriel?" he whispers. "All of this…I never meant… I don't deserve our Father's forgiveness, any more than I deserve the Winchesters'." He looks _defeated_.

"Bullshit." Gabriel whaps him upside the head, smothers an inappropriate laugh at the wide-eyed look of incredulity Castiel throws at him. He keeps his tone serious. "We don't get forgiven because we _deserve_ it, you idiot. That's not the point, and you should know that better than anyone with how many times you've tried to cram it down your darling Dean's throat."

"I…" It seems Castiel doesn't have a response to that, and Gabriel smirks to himself for a moment before dragging himself back to the task at hand.

"Now, the next part is trickier," he says, dreading it a little. "I can clear up this Apocalypse nonsense with Raphael. He may not _want_ to listen to me, but he _will_. I don't need a nuclear bomb to take on another archangel, especially not that one." He glowers a little. "Not that I like the idea, but, well, I like the idea of the world blowing up a lot less. But the point is, I'm _pretty_ sure I can get Raph to back down even without the violent, chest-beating, soul-flinging thing you two've got going on these days."

"There's obviously a catch," Castiel murmurs.

Gabriel fidgets. "Well. I mean, you _did_ start a war with the guy. He's not gonna be too thrilled having you around. And short of throwing him in the pit with Mike and Luci – which I'd prefer to avoid – there aren't many ways I'll be able to get him to back down from trying to destroy _you_."

"I'll give myself up," Castiel says immediately, just like Gabriel knew he would. Guy's nothing if not a predictable martyr, and Gabriel is sorely tempted to smack him again just on principle.

"Not going to be necessary," he replies firmly. "I said there weren't _many_ ways, not that there weren't _any_." Castiel looks at him curiously, with something almost resembling hope on those pretty blue eyes, and Gabriel sighs. "Hey Cas, do you remember what _else_ you asked me, that day with the fish?"

Castiel blinks, his head tilted. "Of course. I asked…I asked if that fish had someone to look after it…"

"…the way I always looked after you," Gabriel finishes, when it becomes clear that Castiel won't. He smiles a little, remembering. "You trusted me back then to take care of you." He swallows, looks up at the sky and wonders if his Dad really knows what He's doing, letting Gabriel do this. "You were a fledgling then, and I could take you as my charge. I can't do that now, but there are other ways."

Beside him, Castiel has gone very still. "You're talking about a claim. A…mark of ownership."

Gabriel breathes out, closing his eyes for just a moment, just long enough to get his bearings. "Yeah."

"It hasn't been done in… I don't think it's been done in my entire lifetime." Before today, Gabriel hadn't known that an angel could go that pale, even within a vessel.

"Nope." Gabriel's lips quirk a little. He's going for reassuring, but it probably comes out more like a grimace. "Raphael couldn't touch you then without being in direct conflict with me. And there's the added bonus of being sure I can keep you out of trouble." At Castiel's puzzled frown, he sighs again. "C'mon, Cas. You can't honestly believe you can quit cold turkey after having that much power at your fingertips, and just be _okay_. I mean, we're not talking anything like Sam Winchester levels of detox, but I doubt it'll be easy either."

For a second, Castiel looks like he slaughtered a puppy or something. And then he just looks horrified.

"Hey," Gabriel says, placing a hand on Castiel's shoulder and forcing the younger angel to meet his gaze. "I'll get you through it, whatever happens. Trust me?"

The hesitation hurts something deep in his grace, but he stays quiet and waits for Castiel's response. When Castiel finally says, "I do, Gabriel," the relief is sharp and intense.

"Okay then. So what do you say?"

Castiel is very quiet for a long time. When he speaks, his voice is more gravelly than Gabriel's ever heard it. He sounds more lost than ever. "I never wanted it, you know. Free will. I took it, and used it, because I thought it was the right thing to do. And because I suddenly had…friends, people who were depending on me. People I cared about. But I never wanted it."

"It's easy to make mistakes," Gabriel says, "and easier still to have someone else to blame them on. Gets a lot harder when you make those mistakes and only have _yourself_ to blame."

Castiel's head bows. "I think I would be all right, giving that up." His voice is quiet, ashamed. Like wanting to give up his freedom is some appalling sin. Of course, given that he's spent so much time with the Winchesters, it's no wonder he feels that way.

"Doing this isn't going to automatically absolve you of ever making your own decisions again, y'know," Gabriel tells him. "I'm not that kind of angel." And what Castiel needs isn't someone to just start ordering him around like a good little soldier again.

"I can't… _be_ whatever it is that God wanted me to be. I need…I need a…a _safety net_. I'm not…maybe it makes me a lesser angel, in His eyes, but I can't do it, Gabriel. I just… _can't_ , anymore."

There are tears in Castiel's eyes, and it's enough to make Gabriel want to weep for everything his brother has been through. He pulls Castiel closer, tugs him down and presses a kiss to his forehead. "You’re a damn fine example of an angel, Castiel," he says vehemently, "and if anyone ever tells you differently, they'll have me to deal with. You're better than all of them." _All of us_ , he wants to say, but can't, because Castiel needs him to be his anchor now, and Gabriel's determined to do just that. Even if he hates it, even if he wishes with every shard of his grace that it wasn't necessary.

Castiel shifts, resting his head on Gabriel's shoulder, seeking comfort now the way he once had as a fledling, and Gabriel offers it just as willingly as he ever did then.

Castiel never hears Gabriel begin to recite the Enochian incantation, ancient even by their standards. He never feels the sigils etching themselves along his skin around the base of his neck. He never sees the way his grace becomes inextricably linked to Gabriel's own. He only trembles, lost in grief and perceived failure and more heartache than any angel should ever have to bear.

Gabriel puts his arms around Castiel and holds him close. "It'll be okay, little brother," he promises. "I'm going to make this okay."


	2. Pick Yourself Back Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mess Castiel had gotten himself into has been dealt with, but there are still things that need fixing.

Castiel is just as startled to find himself in Dean Winchester's dream as Dean looks to have him there. Surprise rapidly gives way to anxiety, though, just as the surprise on Dean's face quickly hardens into suspicion.

Castiel wishes that didn't hurt so much. _I don't want to be here,_ he tells his brother. _Why are you doing this?_

 _Because it needs to be done,_ is the only reply he receives.

"So, what?" Dean demands. "Spying on us in our waking hours isn't enough anymore?"

He deserves this, and more, and he knows it. That doesn't stop Castiel from flinching, or from lowering his eyes as though that will soften the blow of Dean's words. "That's not why I'm here," he says quietly.

"Yeah, well, you want to talk, pick up a damn phone."

"You would not answer if I did." This, at least, Castiel knows.

Dean's teeth grind together.

"I can go," Castiel says, because he's fairly sure that if he begs, Gabriel will let him out. "I… Dean…"

"Save it." Dean's voice is low, angry. He's speaking to Castiel the way he used to, before they were ever friends, before they ever grew to care for each other. His jaw is clenched when he almost grudgingly asks, "What've you been doing with Crowley, Castiel? It's been weeks."

 _Castiel._ Not _Cas_ , and that's like a blade straight through his grace. "Presumably, Crowley is licking his wounds where he belongs, in Hell." That at least gets a flicker of something other than burning anger. Something like surprise, maybe even curiosity. Hesitantly, Castiel continues. "Purgatory, what bits of it we managed to uncover, has been sealed again. And Raphael…" Here he falters, because he simply doesn't know.

Gabriel won't tell him, and Castiel has been afraid to ask.

"Raphael is…taken care of," he tries.

"The hell does that mean?" Dean demands, and of course it couldn't be that easy.

Castiel flinches again. He wishes he could curl into a ball, hide behind the safety of his wings, not have to see that expression on Dean's face or hear that venom in his words. But he needs to try to make amends, if there's any hope at all of saving their friendship. And that means being as honest as he knows how to be.

"It means that I have not seen or heard from Raphael since Gabriel went to…speak with him, but that I've been assured that the war is over, and the apocalypse is cancelled. For good, this time." _For good_ is always a relative term, of course, but for now it fits.

Dean's mouth opens and closes several times. It was not so long ago that the sight would have made Castiel smile. Now it just makes him tense and nervous.

" _Gabriel?_ " Dean finally manages to say.

"I prayed for guidance." Castiel swallows. "I was lost, and too ashamed to go back to my friends for help." He looks away from Dean before he can see the reaction to that. "Gabriel was my answer."

"And he… _helped_." Dean's expression is doubtful. "Threw Crowley into the pit, sealed up Purgatory, _and_ stopped the war?"

All Castiel can do is nod. He knows how it sounds.

Dean appears to mull this news over, undoubtedly looking for flaws, picking it apart to see if Castiel could be feeding him more lies. "If that's true, then why are you _here?_ Why not come tell us in person, oh, I dunno, _weeks_ ago?"

Dean won't want to hear this any more than Castiel wants to say it, but it needs to be said. "I couldn't come see you sooner, even if you would have spoken with me, because I was in…" Rehabilitation? Therapy? What do you call it when an angel is weaned off the power of fifty thousand souls? "…what amounts to a panic room for demon-blood addicts."

In reality, it had been nothing more than his favorite Heaven, that eternal Tuesday afternoon. But he'd been locked down, his wings clipped, and it had been hard, so impossibly difficult. If Gabriel hadn't been by his side so much of the time, he isn't sure he wouldn't have gone mad.

Time flows differently in Heaven, and it was _years_ before he felt like himself again.

It's funny, how feeling like 'himself' feels more human than angel now.

Very slowly, he risks bringing his gaze up and meeting Dean's eyes. He expects disgust, revulsion, perhaps pity. Almost surely hatred. What he gets is nothing of the sort.

What he gets is Dean's eyes shining with unshed tears, worry warring with grief warring with a compassion that almost breaks Castiel where he stands. "Dean…?" It's the barest hint of a whisper.

"You're good now?" Dean asks gruffly.

Castiel blinks. "I'm…as recovered as I can be," he allows. Then, "Dean, I owe you so much more than an apology, I don't –"

"I don't want to hear it," Dean interrupts. For the first time since Castiel arrived, he looks…almost relaxed, faint traces of something like happiness sliding into face, in the lines around his eyes, the corners of his mouth. Still a bit wary, still hurt, but…hopeful. "You made a mistake, you fixed it, it's over. We've all been there. Anything else, we can deal with later." Just like that. "I want to see you, Cas."

 _Cas._

Relief makes Castiel feel dizzy. They're not so broken that they can't be fixed. Castiel wasn't too late. "I would very much like that as well," he says softly, his head spinning. "You and Sam." Because it's not only Dean he owes apologies to, and he cares about the younger Winchester as well. But… "I don't think I can, though. Not yet."

Dean's brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

Castiel looks around at the blank walls, the soundless space of the dream Gabriel provided. "I'm only here like this because it offers the illusion of privacy, which I think my brother thought you would prefer. But the truth is, I cannot be away from Gabriel right now. I'm not… I'm not ready, Dean." His hand drifts up, fingers brushing the skin where the sigils mark him now.

Dean's eyes follow the movement, widen when he sees the brands. "Huh." He raises an eyebrow at Castiel. "So, what, he's your –"

"He's my guardian," Castiel cuts in, because he can only imagine what Dean's about to insinuate. He ignores the low chuckle of Gabriel in his mind, the, _touchy, touchy, Cas_. "He is protecting me, from Raphael, and…from myself."

"…Huh," Dean says again, coming closer for the first time. Drifting into Castiel's space like he belongs there, his own hand rising to inspect the marks around Castiel's neck. He tilts his head just a fraction, meeting Castiel's eyes. He seems very close, now, and Castiel can feel his own heart racing frantically all of a sudden. "Well, y'know Cas, you're not the only one marked by a guardian. And you've been kinda remiss in your duties to watch over _me_ lately."

Castiel's breath stutters. "I… what do you…" He can't breathe at all, doesn't think he wants to. Can't remember when he even started thinking of _breath_ as necessary.

Dean shrugs. "Well, I owe Gabriel a good talking-to anyway. Guess you'll just have to bring the bastard along so you can stop being such a slacker." He pulls away with a wink, before his expressions softens into a real smile. "I really am glad you're okay, Cas," he says, and then shimmers and vanishes as he wakes.

 _Oooh, I always knew I liked that kid,_ Gabriel laughs.

Castiel stares blankly at the spot where Dean was standing for a long time, never even hears Gabriel cackling away.


End file.
